


going up

by CopperCaravan



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Codename: Tens, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-02 02:26:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6546796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CopperCaravan/pseuds/CopperCaravan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John, everybody knows assassins don't use elevators.</p>
            </blockquote>





	going up

Tens won’t budge.

“No,” she says simply, crossing her arms and turning her head away from him. “I’m not fucking doing it and you can’t make me.”

Hancock sighs. Goddamn her but of course she’s gotta make this hard. Harder. “If I didn’t love you,” he mutters under his breath. _He’d_ wanted to stay home. Specifically, he’d wanted to stay home, in bed, with _her_ and sleep. (And maybe stay home, in bed, with her and _not_ sleep.) But _oh no,_ she’s got to put up some… whatever the fuck these things are that she’s always bringing home from the Railroad. Something about some guy named Tom and aliens and, hell, Institute bugs or something, he doesn’t fucking know.

“C’mon,” he tries, but she keeps her arms crossed and her nose turned up. “It’s just an elevator, Tens. You musta used elevators way back when.”

“No, I did not. And let me tell you why.” She starts counting on her fingers—he knows exactly what that means so he just gets comfortable leaning against a wall. “First of all, there is no fucking way these things should still be working.”

“It’s a miracle,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“No, it’s a death trap. Second: elevators are… they’re… goddammit, what’s the word? Iffy. Like that. What is it?” It’s a testament to just how worked up she is that she’s actually asked for help; usually she opts to work her way around the idea until she hits the mark herself.

“Finicky?” he offers.

“No, more… more mechanical than that.”

“Uh, glitchy?” he tries.

She shakes her head, tossing her hand toward the elevator door in irritation. “No. Like they’re… rumbly. Whatever. But old ones are worse, with their old cable wires and buzzy intercoms and shit. Plus, they’re way too dark—”

“You telling me my girl’s scared of the dark?”

“I’m telling you to shut it, John.” She points an angry finger at him and he tries his damnedest not to smirk at her. “I must’ve disabled or otherwise fucked with somebody in an elevator dozens of times. Ain’t hard. And I _am not_ gonna be fucked with on an elevator.”

At that, he pushes himself away from the wall and loops his arms around her neck, drawing her toward him and whispering into her hair. “Might be fun though; never know ‘til you try.”

She laughs but when he tries to tug her forward, she’s firmly planted in place. Not gonna budge even a bit. He exhales and drops his forehead against her shoulder, defeated. “Alright, Sunshine. Then how the hell are we supposed to get your damn MILO onto the roof?”

“MILA,” she corrects, poking him in the ribs.

“Don’t really think you wanna be playing that game with me right now, love.”

“We could just take the stairs.”

The stairs aren’t an option and she damn well knows it. If they had been, Hancock wouldn’t’ve been standing here for the last half hour trying to cajole her into the elevator. “Impressive as I am,” he says, head still against her shoulder and hands dropping to her waist. “I can’t do anything about the _bus_ shoved into the side of the building. It’s the elevator or we go home.”

She hesitates. He can feel the tension in her muscles. Of all the goddamn things, he never would’ve thought elevators would make the short list of shit that scares the hell out of her but clearly he’d have been wrong. And he doesn’t want to push her, small a thing as it seems to him, but she’s hesitating. She might _need_ a push, might want one.

“You really gonna go break Tom’s fragile heart with a story about you being bested by a big, metal box?”

She huffs and shoves him off her—not too roughly, but enough to let him know she wants to smack him for being right—and then stomps into the elevator, flicking her flashlight on as she does.

“Get your ass in here.”

“Don’t tell me you only want me for my body, babe.” Still, despite his joking (and his relief that they can finally get this over with and go back home), he hurries in behind her and pretends he doesn’t notice her hand tighten around his when the elevator lurches into motion.


End file.
